


Sometimes We Take Action, Sometimes We Take Pills

by quintessentially3



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Andy's POV, Angst and Feels, Based on a Fall Out Boy Interview, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Moving On, On Hiatus, Orphan Andy, POV First Person, Suicide Attempt, short fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:17:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quintessentially3/pseuds/quintessentially3
Summary: Andy's in a pretty bad place: his girlfriend left him, Fall Out Boy is on hiatus, and his mom just died. In a state of depression, he calls Joe, tells him that he loves him, says goodbye, and prepares to kill himself. Before he can, Joe shows up at his house.(this is an expansion of Joe and Andy's relationship in What Happens on the Bus Stays on the Bus. It's a ShortFic so it'll be 5 chapters max)





	1. The Darkness Gets Bigger

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [What Happens on the Bus Stays on the Bus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12364749) by [quintessentially3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quintessentially3/pseuds/quintessentially3). 



I'm staring up at the ceiling. It's dark. The clock on my nightstand tells me it's 3:07 AM. Thoughts race through my head, too fast for me catch any of them. But I know what they are anyway.  _Mom, Her, Fall Out Boy, Joe._ An endless cycle. The four most important things in my life. _Gone_ , my brain reminds me,  _they're gone._

Fall Out Boy disappeared first. It took Joe with it, and everything we could have been. Then she left. I don't even want to remember her name. I hate how much I depended on her. I hate the state she left me in. I hate myself for still needing her. And then my mom was gone. The funeral is blurred in my mind. 

I have nothing to fill my days. Nothing but darkness. That sounds poetic. That sounds like a lyric Pete would write. If we were still in a band. If Fall Out Boy still existed. 

I turn so I'm facing the wall. So I have something other then my ceiling to look at. I have no reason for existing. I'm going to die anyways, aren't I? Without anything to distract me, the realization slams down on my mind. I'm not even really a person anymore. Just sadness. The things that make me human are gone. 

Gone. Pressing my wrists into my eyes, I try to stop the tears. A million ways to die fill my mind. A million people who won't miss me. A million. A big number, nothing more. Gone. I have guns. I have knives. I could end it right now. Everything... Stopping. Sleeping forever. It sounds nice, and that fact alone makes me tremble. Wanting death terrifies me. 

But I could see my mom again. I could see my dad, too, although I never really knew him.

Jesus. I wish Pete was here. Pete's been through this. Pete survived. 

But I'm not Pete. 

I stand up and leave my room, aimlessly wondering my house. My fingers trail over random objects, nothing but material things, the things I'll leave behind. I find a piece of paper, write a few instructions on it. Bury me according to my beliefs and give Patrick my drums. Tell everyone I'm sorry. 

So, so sorry. 

I keep walking, leaving the paper on the table. I walk without point, not really sure where I'm going, not really registering what's happening. My feet stop in front of my gun cabinet. I stare at it dumbly.  _Am I really going to do this?_

Before I know it, I'm unlocking the cabinet. I grab the first gun I find, a Walther P99. I load it with precision. I've done this before. I know what I'm doing. At least when it comes to loading guns.

I sit down at the table, setting the gun down, the note next to me. The P99 glares up at me, gleaming in the small light that I don't remember turning on. I reread the note. It sounds so cold. So... dark. I can't say goodbye like this. At least not Pete and Patrick and Joe. Especially Joe. 

I take a deep breath, my gaze landing on my phone, charging innocently on the table. A few steps and I'm picking it up. A few taps and Joe's number is called. He answers on the first ring. 

"Andy?" He's tired. I probably woke him up. But it's Joe. And It's so so so good to hear someone else's voice. 

"Joe." My voice is shaking, relieved. I sound so weak. I've always kind of hated my voice, it sounds so stupid. So girly. 

"What's going on?" Joe asks. 

"I-I just wanted... To say goodbye." I whisper the last few words. 

"What? Are you going somewhere or something?" God. He's so innocent it almost makes me laugh. I sallow instead. 

"Or something." 

"Is everything okay?" No. Everything is wrong. Nothing is okay. I'm not okay. I shouldn't be doing this to Joe. I should just kill myself and get it over with. Jesus. Why did I think this was good idea? 

"Just... Tell everyone I- tell them I'm sorry." I'm crying now. "D-don't let..." Don't what? Don't let my body rot here for too long? "Don't let them be too sad." 

"Andy-" Joe starts, but I press end call. I sit there for a while, staring down at my phone, my gun, my note. My phone lights up a few times, Joe trying to call me. He leaves voice mails. I don't bother opening them. 

I reach, and my hand selects the gun. Clutching the familiar grip, I raise it slowly to my head, turning off the safety, squeezing my eyes shut, my finger curling around the trigger... Just as there's a loud knock on the door. I let out a breath, setting the gun down again. I'm afraid, I realize, but I've made up my mind. I'll just wait until whoever is at the door is gone. A gunshot would get the police called. 

The knocking gets louder. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes.  _Ignore it, they'll leave eventually._ They don't. The knocking becomes pounding. I wonder if it's just a hallucination, proof of how crazy I am. Why won't they just let me die? The pounding doesn't stop. I feel like I'm drowning, drowning in the noise. It covers my thoughts, giving me a headache.  _Just go away just go away just go away just go-_ There's a crash. They broke my door down. This fact barely registers in my brain. I stare numbly at the gun, a silent face off between me and everything I've ever been afraid of-

"Andy?" It's Joe except that it's not because how could Joe be here? Joe should be far, far away, away from the chaos and depression that is me. "Andy?!" And then someone's shaking me and when I look up it's Joe and I'm crying and suddenly Joe starts crying and then he's got his arms around me and I'm crying into his shoulder and he's murmuring to me and rocking me back and forth gently and I can't tell what he's saying but it doesn't really matter because  _oh my god I was about to kill myself_   but Joe's here now.

We sit there for a while. I don't know how long. Eventually, Joe pulls me up and leads me into my room. He gently sets me into the bed, wrapping the covers around me. 

"Sleep. I'll stay here." He soothes, and starts singing softly. I don't try to stop him. Having him there makes everything feel a little better. A small piece of my life returned to me. His voice lulls me into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, the first one in a while. 

* * *

The next morning Joe is sitting under the window, asleep. It takes me a second to process why he's there. The events of last night come rushing back to me and suddenly I'm crying again. Joe wakes up and is at my side immediately, comforting me. I push him away gently, wiping my eyes. 

"I-I'm okay." I promise. Joe steps back looking me in the eye. 

"You sure?" He asks. I take a deep breath. The shock of how close I was starts to wear off, just a little. With a tired smile, I look back at Joe. 

"No." I say. Joe smiles, relieved. 

"C'mon." He pulls me out of bed. "I'm making breakfast and then you're taking a shower."

We walk out into the dining room together. The table is clear, the gun and note gone. Joe must have put them away. Thankfully. I sit down at the table while Joe starts making some vegan pancakes. 

"You had me really worried," He tells me after a moment, looking up from the pancakes. I glance at him, then back down at my hands. 

"I'm sorry." It's all I can muster. Joe sets down his spatula.

"Hey. Don't apologize, okay, that only makes it worse." He walks over to me, wrapping his arms around me. "You can't blame yourself." I take a deep breath, relaxing into Joe's arms. 

"Stay with me? Here?" I ask, before I can even think. I just know I can't be alone again. There's a pause, and I think Joe's going to say no, which terrfies me because I don't know what I'd do. 

"Yes. I'll stay as long as you need me." He promised. 


	2. But Then It Gets Better

We finish breakfast in silence. Comfortable silence.

Joe's a pretty good cook.

I help him with the dishes, everything I've neglected for the past few weeks. It's a pretty big pile. I start to put some of them away when Joe stops me, putting his hand on my arm. 

"I'll take care of it. You need to shower." He smiles, kind and reassuring. I mirror him, turning. As I'm leaving the kitchen, Joe calls after me. "Just shout if you need me." I nod, even though he can't see it. He's worried, I can tell. Worried I might try to drown myself. Jesus. I close the door behind me, locking it. I turn on the shower and let the steam fill the bathroom. I watch the water swirl down the drain. There's a metaphor here somewhere. 

With a sigh, I step into the shower. The water is hot, and it hurts a little, but I don't move to turn it down. Jesus. I was so close last night. It's terrifying. If Joe hadn't shown up when he did... I tremble at the thought. My finger was wrapped around the trigger. The gun was loaded. Jesus. 

"Lyrics," I mutter to myself. "Just get lost in the lyrics." And before I know it, I'm humming to Holiday by Green Day, pretending like I'm drumming. It works well, distracting me. 

I don't hear Joe banging on the door. The wood is soft enough that it swallows up the sound. 

I close my eyes, feeling peaceful for the first time since the funeral. I'm safe. I'm safe. The warm water and light definitely helped. Not to mention the pancakes. I'm safe, and it's going to be oka- A loud noise jerks me out of my thoughts. I poke my head out of the shower and blink in shock. The door to my bathroom is lying on the floor, revealing an opening into the hallway. Joe hurtles through the entrance before I can react, with a shout of "ANDY! DON'T!" He yanks the open the shower curtain open, nearly tearing it down- and stops.

"Oh." He says slowly. His eyes are wild with worry. "You're..." I frown at him. 

"You broke my fucking door down," I state angrily, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist. Joe glances over his shoulder and rubs his neck awkwardly.

"I... You didn't answer when I knocked..." He trails off, shrugging sheepishly. I stare at my feet and neither of us says anything.

"You thought I was going to drown myself." My voice is dull, quiet. Joe nods slowly. 

"Andy..." I glance back up at him. His eyes travel over my body and suddenly he starts to blush. I'm wearing only a towel. I raise an eyebrow at Joe, who quickly pulls his attention back to my face. "R-right," He stammers slightly. I smile, suddenly feeling kind of bold. I've made Joe blush. 

I brush past him on my way out, letting my skin lightly touch his. His eyes widen slightly and I hide a smile. "Believe me when I say I'm not theatrical enough for that fate." I pause, inspecting the door frame. "Also, you owe me a door." 

* * *

Later, I'm in my exercise room, trying to find the right weights for my bench press. Joe is leaning against the doorway, on his phone. 

"I don't understand how your place gets so messy if you're the only one who lives here." He mutters, without glancing up. I paused to look at him. 

"Usually my housemate Matt would be around," I say in an offhand way. In truth, not having anyone around had been driving me nuts. It was too quiet. 

"I remember Matt!" Joe exclaimed, "Where's he now? Haven't seen him in awhile." I shrugged. 

"Moved out a few months ago. Something about a better job opportunity? I don't know." I continued to search for the missing weights, bending back down to sift through a pile of equipment. 

"Sucks, dude." Joe crossed the room to where I was standing and bent down to help me look. We're less than 10 inches apart. I couldn't stop myself from watching Joe as he pushed stuff to the side, his tattooed arms moving quickly. There's some faint stubble around his jawline, and some of his hair falls across his face. As per usual, he's wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. He's the same Joe I've known for years. 

But something about the way the sunlight streaming in through a window catches on the panes of his face stops me from looking away. The way his skin turns a soft golden color, the way streaks of amber seem to appear in his hair. He's silhouetted by the sun, and I feel like I'm looking at him from a new perspective. I wish I could capture it. Not just that image, but the warm feeling that comes with it, like stepping out of an air-conditioned building into pleasantly warm weather.

Joe pauses and tilts his head so he's looking up at me. I drag my eyes away from his profile and meet his gaze. Joe's baby blue eyes meet my own blue gunmetal ones. I feel like I've been caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. _Damn_. His eyes are really fucking pretty. Dark pupils, opaque and... brimming. It's the only word I can use to describe it. And... It feels like... Joe can see inside my head, like I'm exposing some part of myself.

I look away, then, quickly, and swallow. Something tells me that looking into Joe's eyes is like taking a drug. That I'll get addicted to them. That strangely vulnerable feeling felt too much like standing too close to the edge of a cliff, as though I'd topple off any second. But at the same time... It felt good. 

"An... Andy?" I can feel Joe's eyes (those fucking eyes) on me. I take a deep breath, mentally telling myself to chill. Finally, I turn and face Joe. I know what I'm going to ask him. As nice as it is having another person here, I don't think Joe should stay any longer. I'll just have to deal with being alone again. I open my mouth and...

"I'm really glad you're here." I frown as soon as the words leave my lips. I hadn't meant to say that.

Joe's watching me. He's waiting for something, some sign that I mean what I just said. And I do, I realize. If I hadn't called Joe I'd probably be in a morgue somewhere with a bullet through my head. I smile at him, and that's all that's needed. Joe wraps me in a hug, his own face breaking into the widest grin I've ever seen. 

"I'm so, so, so glad you called me." He whispered. I swallow. 

"Yeah," I manage hoarsely, "So am I."        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah so they had a moment. sorry i haven't updated in forever, i've been pretty busy lately but i promise i'll try to update more. pls leave some constructive critcism in the comments on how i'm doing writing their emotions cuz i'm pretty bad at writing emotions. thanks for all the hits/kudos, i love writing for yall.


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